


Keep the Change

by rowofstars



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Sex, F/M, Hate Sex, Light Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, pawn shop sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Lacey confronts Gold about a late notice for her rent and things...happen.





	Keep the Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/gifts).



> The wonderful, amazing, stupendous thescholarlystrumpet prompted me "hate sex" on her birthday and I am the worst and also slow. This is trash and you deserve better.

The bell clanged angrily as the pawn shop door was flung open hard enough to rattle on its hinges.

Gold looked up from the jewelry he was appraising and scowled. Lacey French came through the curtain that separated the front of the shop from his workroom. She stalked towards him, her heels loud and sharp on the old wood floor, and slapped a slightly wrinkled piece of paper on the table. “What the hell is this, Gold?”

He blinked, his expression remaining neutral as he picked up the folded paper and skimmed it. It was, as he expected it to be, his standard form letter for a late rent payment printed on his usual letterhead.

“I believe you know what this is, Miss French,” he said evenly. “You’ve seen enough of them delivered to your father.”

“My father has nothing to do with this.” She snatched the letter out of his hand only to hold it up in his face. “Unlike his drunk ass, _I_ paid on time.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, but your rent is five hundred a month, and that lovely plastic bag of filthy, beer-splattered cash and coin you gave me contained only four hundred ninety-nine dollars and eighty-seven cents.”

Lacey’s eyes widened, and he swore he could see something swirling in their depths, like storm clouds rolling in over the horizon. She leaned forward as her lips flattened, nostrils flaring like an angry animal. The whole town knew she had a temper that rivaled her old man’s, and it had been directed at Gold on more than one occasion, though he was hardly scared.

She was feisty and brash, smart and beautiful, and he would never admit it to anyone, but he actually liked Lacey French. She was better than this town gave her credit for, better than she probably gave herself credit for too, but her impulsiveness frequently got her in trouble, and her stubbornness kept her there. He could relate in a way, his own poor decisions having done more than a number on his own life.

Despite all that, however, he had a reputation to maintain, and he would have his money. If it angered Lacey in the process, well, so much the better. She was stunning when she was angry, and he was a vile old man, exactly as the town always said.

He did so enjoy exceeding people’s expectations.

“You’re going to threaten me,” she said slowly, “with a late payment fee...and possible eviction...over _thirteen fucking cents?!_ ”

He started to smile, his tongue touching his bottom lip as he watched her face flush with rage. Her hands were balled into fists at her side, the formal letter he’d left in her mailbox that morning now crumpled in her right palm. 

“Such an unlucky number,” he said softly, shaking his head.

“It was a mistake!”

He tsked. “I doubt you would accept such an excuse from someone who didn’t pay all of their tab at the Rabbit Hole, right? How about on one of your shifts at Granny’s? Of course not, because it would come out of your tips if you were short.” 

Lacey’s jaw clenched, and the corner of his mouth curved into a sly smirk. Abruptly, her hands slammed down on the counter, rattling the velvet jewelry cases and sending one of the earrings he’d been examining rolling to the side. He caught it with a finger, almost casually, like he’d been expecting her little outburst.

“Careful. You wouldn’t want to add the cost of damage to my property onto that late fee.”

She let out a humourless snort. “Here’s your damn late fee!”

Gold quickly leaned to the side as Lacey reached into the pocket of her jacket and sent a quarter flying in his direction. It breezed past his head and hit the frame of the mirror behind him. She was fortunate, because she threw it hard enough that if it had hit the mirror it might have broken.

“Keep the change,” she snapped, and then spun on her heel to leave.

“Miss French,” he called out, moving around from behind the counter to stand in front of the curtain that separated the workroom from the front of the shop. His hands folded over the handle of his cane as she whirled around to face him. “Per the terms of your lease, if you do not pay the late fee in addition to the missing rent amount by the end of today, I can legally assess you another late fee, or...”

She swallowed and met his eyes. “Or what?”

His smile was slow and amused, his lips curling to expose his crooked teeth. “Or I can evict you.”

Lacey stomped towards him, hands on her hips, until they were nearly toe to toe. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

Gold’s head tilted. “I wouldn’t? Perhaps you should ask your friend Leroy what I wouldn’t dare do. Or that worthless boyfriend of yours, Keith Nottingham.”

Lacey’s breath caught as Gold leaned in. He had only a couple of inches on her in her heels, but his presence itself was intimidating enough for most. He wielded a lot of power and influence in their small town, but she suspected he would command it anywhere with his money and words, fine suits and ironclad contracts. He was the closest thing a place like Storybrooke had to organized crime, and for some reason he intrigued and infuriated her in equal measure. She’d watched her father and everyone save the mayor bend to Gold’s will, but some time ago she had decided she wouldn’t be one of them.

Her face flushed again and she jabbed at Gold’s chest with her finger, her nail polish a dead ringer for the dark blue silk of his tie. “That disgusting slime is _not_ my boyfriend. I have standards, you know.”

He let out a scoffing laugh. “Low ones, apparently.”

“Fuck you!” she spat, pressing her body closer. Her red leather jacket opened over a blue blouse that matched her eyes, cut low enough that he could see the lace of her bra peeking out over the top.

His mouth formed a soft _‘O’_ as he breathed out. “Is that an offer, or a suggestion?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her lips pursing briefly. “Are you sure you’re _low enough_ for my standards?”

His brow twitched a second before he moved. 

They met somewhere in the middle, mouths open, tongues seeking. He tasted sharp and sweet, like expensive scotch. Her jacket hit the floor, and she moaned as he guided her backward to sit on the edge of the workbench. Her legs spread so he could stand between them as his hands moved over her thighs to push her skirt up. She leaned back, breaking the kiss for a moment, breathing into the space between their lips, until her hands found purchase, crumpling the notice of late payment beneath her palm.

“Careful, Miss French,” Gold said, dipping his head to taste the skin of her neck. He kissed his way up to her ear as his hand slipped between her legs. “That’s a legal document.”

She squirmed and slid her fingers in his hair, pulling until he moved his head back and looked at her. Holding his gaze she leaned in and caught his bottom lip, dragging her teeth over the plump flesh at the same time as she clawed the paper, tearing it before she shoved it to the floor.

One shoulder shrugged. “Oops.”

He smirked and drew his hand higher, fingertips skimming over the inside of her thigh, and her grip on his hair tightened until she scraped her nails over his scalp. When he found damp silk at the juncture of her legs and pressed against it, her lips parted in a breathy sigh, her head bending back to expose the long, smooth column of her throat. Her auburn hair fell behind her, reaching all the way to the table, and an image flashed in his mind of it spilling over him as he wound his fingers in it, combing through it and tugging gently as she knelt in front of him. 

Lacey turned her head and caught his mouth, kissing him roughly and sucking hard on his tongue. He groaned into her mouth, and when she pitched her hips forward he pulled her knickers aside, pushing one long finger inside her. She was tight and wet and felt fucking amazing, already clenching around his finger as he pulled it out. He didn’t know if she was already worked up when she got here, or if yelling at him did it for her, but he wasn't about to turn away a beautiful woman who wanted him to fuck her.

“This doesn’t absolve your debt,” he said, his lips hovering over hers as he spoke. While she watched, he slowly raised his hand to his mouth and sucked on his finger, moaning at the taste of her.

She licked her lips and panted softly. “I believe I settled that already.”

Gold pulled his finger out with a wet pop and brushed it over her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, catching the tip of it as it passed and his eyes closed for a moment. He wanted her and she wanted him, the adversarial tension they’d maintained for years seemingly building up to this moment. 

“Then what is this?”

It was a question she wasn’t sure she had the answer to just yet, but she didn’t want to stop. Gold was rich, powerful, and a pretty amazing kisser. She’d had a lot of bad sex in her life; the painful kind, the boring kind, and the kind that left her high and dry and unsated. The way Gold was looking at her, the way he touched her and kissed her, made her pretty sure this would be none of those.

They stared at each other for a long moment before she said, “Something that’s never gonna happen again.”

He gave her the briefest nod of acknowledgement and inched his hand up her leg again, watching as her breathing quickened, her chest heaving the closer her got to the crease of her hip. He touched her again, one finger, then two, and she moaned, long and low, shifting her hips forward to press into his hand. He stroked her slowly, almost delicately, like he was winding the fine gears of a clock or handing a fragile crystal vase, watching as she arched her back, stretching her blouse tight over her breasts. She cried out when he found a particularly good spot, and he smiled.

“Are you going to come, Lacey?” 

His accent was thick and warm, and she bit her lip, squeaking out another little noise as he pushed his fingers deeper. “Bastard,” she hissed out.

She gripped the edge of the table and a fist full of his wasitcoat, trying not to let him know how good it felt. Once Gold found a weakness in someone, he exploited it, and oh was he doing it right now, rubbing the same spot over and over, too slow to get her off but enough to bring her right to the edge. 

His grin widened and his gold tooth flashed in the low light. He touched his thumb to her clit and was rewarded with a shuddering gasp. She arched her back and a straining button on her blouse popped off, landing on the floor with a light rattling sound. 

Bending his head, he kissed the newly exposed skin between her breasts and then mouthed up her neck to whisper in her ear. “Are you going to come for me?”

Lacey keened and swore as her orgasm washed over her, her breath coming in rapid pants as she turned her head and caught his lips again in a messy kiss. His hand had moved so gently, but she’d come harder than she could remember, her whole body shivering with the pleasure of it. She wanted to hate him for it.

Gold pulled his fingers free with a slick, wet sound, sweeping over her clit and smirking at the way she whimpered. She looked at him with heavy eyes and pushed herself upright. Her hands went to his belt, undoing the buckle and button with a few deft movements that make him not want to think about how many times she’d done this. He kissed her deeply as she tugged down his zipper and stroked him through his boxers, his hips jerking forward to press his erection into her palm.

A few seconds later, she shoved his trousers and underwear to his ankles, the belt rattling as it hit the floor. She wiggled out of her panties while he tucked his shirt up and out of the way, then she took took him in hand. Her hot little hands rolled a condom down his length that she seemed to have produced out of thin air, and he let out a sharp hiss when she squeezed him at the base. He stared down at her open thighs, her wet, flushed pussy on display, and licked his lips.

Her hand left his cock reaching up to pull on his tie and get his attention. “Better safe than sorry.”

He smirked. “Too right.”

She leaned back on her free hand, pushing her hips to the edge of the workbench, the purposefulness in her actions giving more weight to the moment. His hand on her thigh was damp with her juices as he spread her legs further apart. Taking himself in hand, he watched her face as he slid inside her, her eyelids fluttering closed as her mouth fell open on a soft gasp. He pulled out halfway, groaning at the feeling of her body grasping at him as she tugged on his tie.

He did it again and she swore under her breath. It was too soft, too controlled, too much like he was trying to figure her out, to know something about her. She couldn’t have that.

She let go of his tie and grabbed at his shoulder, pulling him closer. “You gonna _fuck me_ , Gold, or bore me to death?”

His golden brown eyes darkened and his lip curled with malice. In one swift thrust, he buried himself in her wet heat, pulling a cry from her throat. He did it again, delighting in the way she bucked against him, her heavy-lidded eyes daring him to keep going. He bared his teeth and shifted a hand to the table to hold himself steady.

Lacey’s head head lolled backwards as he moved, her breath coming in sharp pants and gasps with each thrust. She shifted and wrapped her legs around him, her shiny blue heels pressing into the back of his legs, urging him to move faster. She thought about what might happen if someone came into the shop, if someone saw her getting fucked hard by Mr. Gold. The town slut and the town beast, a perfect pairing in some people’s eyes.

He slammed against her, harder and harder. The workbench shuddered, rattling his bin of spare parts and screws, the air mixing with her breathy noises and whispered curses. She could feel the bruises that would come, the marks from the tension in his hand on her waist, and the tender spot where his hip ground against the inside of her thigh.

“Like this?” Gold hissed in her ear. Then he pulled her forward, tilting her hips up. Any sense of coherence left her as his cock hits a spot deep inside her body.

“ _Fuck - yes -!_ ” she said between gasps.

Over and over he pushed into her, moving a hand between them to rub at her clit until she trembled and clenched around his length. She felt like she might say his name or something foolish, so she pulled him down for a kiss, muffling the sounds of her orgasm with his mouth. 

He slowed his movements as she came down, dragging his mouth away from hers to the side her neck. A few more thrusts and he found his release too, biting at her skin and not caring if he left a mark.

They stood like that for a long moment, until his cock softened and he stepped back, slipping out of her. He disposed of the condom before pulling up his boxers and trousers, doing up the button and zipper as she tugged her skirt down awkwardly. Then he held out a hand as she hopped off the bench, and she stumbled into him, resting her head on his shoulder until her legs were stable again. He couldn't help the satisfied little smirk when he looked down at her, her eyes wide and fuckstruck, and she pulled her hand free to reach up and straighten his tie.

“Sorry, Mr. Gold,” Lacey said, smoothing her hand over the paisley silk as she recovered her wits. “I’m afraid you’re a bit wrinkled.”

Gold swallowed and brushed his hand down his torso as if wiping away her touch. “No matter, Miss French.”

She bent slowly, letting him see that she hadn’t put her panties back on beneath her very short skirt. When she straightened, she held out the quarter she’d thrown at him and dropped it into his palm.

“You can still keep the change,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Call it a...tip."

Gold’s hand closed around the coin as he watched her leave. He was damned, but he couldn’t help but wonder what might happen next month when she came to pay the rent.


End file.
